


I saw it in your eyes

by yourlionheartx



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alcohol, Eating Disorders, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-23
Updated: 2017-10-23
Packaged: 2019-01-21 19:54:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12464728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yourlionheartx/pseuds/yourlionheartx
Summary: Louis and Harry meet in the smoking area of a bar in LA at exactly the right time.Another companion fic for Sweet, wonderful you. This time from Harry’s POV. Might make more sense if you read that first but as a quick summary: Harry's a famous model, Zayn is his 'enemy' turned best friend who had to quit modelling when he was hospitalised for his eating disorder. Louis is a footballer who loved Harry the moment he first saw him (it was mutual).





	I saw it in your eyes

L fucking A might just be Harry’s favourite place in the world. It’s hot, it’s full of beautiful people and beautiful things. There are beaches with white sand, the best bars and his best friend pressed up close to his side. One of Harry’s hands is playing with Zayn’s hair as Zayn leans in to him. If they get caught like this, if there are any photographers in this bar tonight or waiting outside, trying to get a juicy shot through the window, they’re both screwed. Not that it matters so much about the two guys thing, Zayn’s been publicly out for years now and Harry’s become pretty well known as that British model who waves rainbow flags around at every event he attends. But they’re Harry Styles and Zayn Malik and a year ago the media battled them against each other at every opportunity they had, which Harry thinks Zayn took to heart much more than he ever did. Their feud was one of the biggest deals of the decade though, until Zayn did the whole collapsing from malnutrition on the runway thing.

Harry remembers that moment like it was yesterday and he wishes he could forget. He’d seen Zayn backstage that day, for the first time in a couple of months, and he looked at Zayn’s sunken cheekbones and narrow limbs. He thought he’d taken it too far, could tell he wasn’t on top form when he stumbled and made a comment about being clumsy, when Harry knew it was just his legs giving in, unable to hold him anymore.

When Zayn looked at Harry that day, he had narrowed his eyes, flicking them over Harry’s body. Any other day, and Harry would have given him the finger or glared right back, but he couldn’t stop staring at the dark circles under Zayn’s eyes.

And then he went down. Two steps ahead of Harry. At first, Harry thought Zayn had just lost his footing again. He heard the crack of Zayn’s skull against the floor of the runway and he waited. One second, two seconds, three seconds. The whole room erupted, flashing cameras, people yelling, Zayn’s agent calling for an ambulance as Harry fell on his knees next to Zayn and tried shaking him awake.

“Zayn,” he yelled. “No, no, no, you fucking idiot. What have you done?” He remembers crying, remembers those pictures all over the internet.

 

Now, Zayn’s lips are on Harry’s neck. “Love you,” Zayn whispers. Harry thinks a year ago he would have died to just hear those words from Zayn, but he isn’t sure now. He probably loved Zayn from the moment he met him and disguised it as this stupid, childish fight so Zayn wouldn’t find out. Zayn knows now though, Zayn knows but Harry’s already figured out that he’d rather stay friends than anything else. What they have is perfect. They’ve got it out of their systems now anyway. Last night they kissed until they could barely breathe. It’s out of Harry’s system.

“Gonna go out for a smoke,” Zayn says. He tries to stand but his feet slip and he falls back down onto the sofa, laughing. “Help me, Harry.”

Harry gets to his feet first, holding out his hands and hauling Zayn up. “I’ll come with you, I want some air,” he says. He isn’t as drunk as Zayn, but the bar’s hot and airless and he wants to see the stars.

When they’re outside, Zayn lights his cigarette and Harry leans back against the wall and searches the crowd. His eyes meet blue and he stops. There’s a guy leaning against the opposite wall, one knee bent, foot against the wall, cigarette between his fingers. He smiles slow, eyes dropping down Harry before moving back up.

Zayn’s saying something but fuck if Harry can hear anything over the blood rushing in his ears and the prettiest fucking man he has ever seen in his life giving him sex eyes.

“Uh – Harry?” Zayn asks.

“I love him,” Harry says.

Zayn follows his eyes. “Dude, you love everyone. I’ve been mates with you for a year and you’ve said ‘I love him’ like sixty times about sixty different guys.”

“Fuck off,” Harry mutters. “Oh, God, shit, he’s coming over.” Harry pushes his shoulders back and flicks his hair from his eyes, an obviously practised smirk appearing on his lips. Zayn rolls his eyes.

“Harry Styles, right?” the guy says. He wets his lips and his eyes flicker up and down again. Zayn continues smoking, leaning back to watch the mating show.

“Yeah, that’s me,” Harry says. He bites his lip. “And your name is?”

The man raises his eyebrows and lets out a small laugh, running his hand through messy brown hair. He looks familiar, Zayn’s having trouble trying to place him. “You don’t watch a lot of football, Harry?” The man asks.

_Oh_. Zayn presses his lips together to hide his smile.

Harry’s eyes only widen for a moment before he gets his cool back. “Are you someone I should have heard of? Big shot footie player?”

“I’m Louis Tomlinson. Captain of Manchester United. You know, that little footie team you might have heard of.”

“Oh.”

Watching Harry get beaten in a flirting match is an amazing thing. Zayn realised who Louis was the moment football came up, knew exactly where he’d seen him before. Louis Tomlinson, the first out, gay football captain in the UK.

Louis’ eyes flicker to Zayn, who’s still watching. For a moment, Louis’ quiet and then “Oh, hey, you’re the model who like nearly died, right?”

“Louis,” Harry says, his voice firm, like he’s talking to his kid and not some guy he’s trying to take home.

“It’s okay, Harry,” Zayn says. He smiles at Louis. “Kind of nice to have someone actually say it and not skirt around it for once. Yep, that’s me. And you’re the footballer who came out on stage at Manchester pride when you were drunk and forgot about it the next day, right?”

Louis grins. “One and only.”

“Do you want to dance with me and then take me home?” Harry asks. Louis tears his eyes away from Zayn and blinks at Harry, who has the sweetest look on his face.

“Yes, I would fucking love to do that. Let’s go.” He drops his cigarette, grinding it out, and he takes Harry by the hand, leading him back into the bar.

Harry doesn’t even look back to see Zayn’s eyebrow raise, doesn’t even look back to see Zayn lean back against the wall and look up at the sky, breathing out a line of smoke.  

 

The dancing lasts minutes before Harry’s giving Zayn their room key and following Louis out of the bar. They get into Louis’ car and, as the driver starts moving, Louis is on Harry. He presses kisses down his neck, fingers moving up under his t shirt as his other hand snakes between them to rub the front of Harry’s jeans.

Louis’ staying in a hotel that might be even fancier than the one Harry and Zayn have got. Louis’ room has a bed that could probably fit two more Harry’s, and four more Louis’. That’s something Harry points out and it earns him a light smack on the ass.

“You calling me short, curly?” Louis asks.

Harry smiles against skin, his face pressed against Louis’ neck. “You’re tiny,” he says.

“Going the right way for a spanking,” Louis murmurs in Harry’s ear.

“Don’t tempt me.” Harry kisses Louis’ neck and feels Louis melting against him, his hands on Harry’s waist. When Harry kisses him, Louis’ hands move to pull away Harry’s t shirt and he pushes him back towards his bed.

Louis’ knees bracket Harry’s hips as they kiss, his hands all over Harry’s chest. Harry tugs on Louis’ t shirt and pulls it over his head.

“Your jeans are ridiculous,” Harry mutters against Louis’ lips.

“What’s wrong with my jeans? I like these jeans.”

“Too tight.”

Louis laughs against Harry’s lips. They manage to get them off with a bit of a struggle and Louis pulls off his boxers too, lying back against the bed and smiling up at Harry.

Harry thinks then, despite knowing this guy for all of about three hours, that he could probably keep doing this. He hasn’t been looking for anyone for a long time, caught up with his hopeless crush on Zayn and then just being content being single, he supposes. They do say that the right person comes when you aren’t looking for them. When Louis tugs Harry down to kiss him again, Harry thinks there’s a lot of truth in that.

Harry gets his own jeans and pants off and Louis’ hand is on both of their cocks then, stroking them both together and Harry draws in a sharp breath, biting his lip as he keeps watching Louis’ face.

“You stare a lot,” Louis mutters.

“You’re pretty, can’t help it.”

“But you’re intense, like.” Louis stares back, eyes wide, not blinking and Harry can’t help but laugh, losing their little competition. Louis grins and takes his chance to hook his heels against Harry’s hips and roll them over. He’s small but Harry goes easily. Louis reaches over to get lube and a condom out of the drawer by the bed.

“Gonna ride you, yeah?” he says and Harry just nods his head quickly. He rocks his hips up and his hands find Louis’ arse, dragging his finger down over the crack.

He takes the lube and presses his finger into him and Louis closes his eyes, grinding back into him as Harry thrusts. He swears when Harry slides a second finger in. Louis leans in the brush his lips over Harry’s. “Come on,” he whispers before biting at Harry’s bottom lip.

Harry starts fucking his fingers faster and he stares as Louis grinds down into his hand, cheeks flushed and his fingers gripping at the sheets next to Harry’s head.

Louis presses the condom into Harry’s hand and Harry ribs it open with his teeth and rolls it on, covering his length with lube. He takes his fingers away and Louis lifts himself up and settles back against the tip of Harry’s cock. Harry punches out a breath, guiding himself inside and watching Louis tip his head back. When Harry’s deep inside him, he grips Louis hips and circles his hips and Louis looks back down at him with hooded eyes.

“God, that’s perfect. You’re perfect,” Louis says and Harry smiles. Louis lifts himself up a little and starts fucking himself deep and slow on Harry’s cock. Their eyes stay on each other until Louis has to close his eyes, groaning.

“So good,” Harry agrees. He tries to get himself up on his elbows and, at the same time, Louis moves forward to kiss him hard. Louis sits up and starts moving faster. Harry rocks his hips up to meet his thrusts and gets his hand around Louis’ cock, matching their rhythm. He feels so close when Louis lifts himself off and rolls onto his back, tugging Harry towards him.

Harry slides back in easily and Louis gets his legs around his waist as he fucks into him fast. Louis gasps as Harry bends his knees further towards his chest and gets in deeper. They’re kissing messily now, both so close and Harry can hear his breaths coming out short. When Louis comes he arches up into Harry. Harry pants into Louis’ neck and grips at his hips, thrusting deep and holding himself there as he comes too.

They don’t move for a moment and then Harry pulls out slowly, moving his head to press his lips against Louis’ mouth. “You, Harry Styles, are something else,” Louis whispers against Harry’s jaw and Harry grins. He pulls off the condom and gets up on wobbly feet, throwing in into the bin in the bathroom and coming back with tissues to clean Louis up.

Louis smiles, all lazy and blissed out, and he leans forward to press a quick kiss to Harry’s lips. “I’m not letting you go. Not ever.”

 

When they wake up, Harry has a few missed calls from Zayn and he sits up so suddenly that his head starts to spin, remembering why they came to bloody LA in the first place. Zayn had been slipping a bit, nothing major, but he had thrown the food in his apartment out and ignored Harry’s messages for a few days until Harry turned up at his with plane tickets.

Louis makes a little noise next to him, his arm reaching out blindly.

“Lou, I gotta go. I have a show this evening and I need to get lunch with Zayn.”

Louis cracks an eye open. “You’ll give me your number?” he asks.

Harry smiles. “Of course.” He reaches over to grab Louis phone and types his number into his phone. “Message me?”

“Reckon I’ll play hard to get for a little bit. M’ not easy,” Louis says.

Harry quirks an eyebrow. “Yeah? I don’t know about that.”

Louis tugs Harry down to kiss him. “I’ll be thinking about you every day until I see you again,” he whispers and it takes all of Harry’s self-control to not start flailing around like a teenager who just got asked out by their crush.

“Good,” he says. “Me too.”

**

“I’m gonna marry him,” Harry says, when he’s back in his shared room with Zayn. Zayn had opened the door for him and then fallen back onto the bed with a groan, hand clasping a bottle of water.

He rolls his eyes. “Alright, Harry,” he says. “You do that.”

**Author's Note:**

> I'm probably done with this verse now lol but it's been fun


End file.
